So, this is my last few days as an ex-pat. Le sigh. Right now I'm in Paris, a beautiful city. I kind of wish that I were spending my last few days back in London with my friends, but I'll be able to visit them. I just won't be living with them.

Ah, the depression is setting in.

So, i'll be changing the name of the blog in a few days.

What can I say about Paris that I haven't already espoused in a post card. It's interesting, it's different. There are things about it that I really like, and there are things that I don't like so much. Cafes are not pubs, cafes aren't even like American cafes, but somewhere in between and far more formal than either.

However, I am sick of traveling along. One entirely dependent upon who's hanging out in the lobby, and while that has a very Hemingway-esque air to it (or Fitzgerald, some relic of the past), it also means that one is not in control of their own outings or conversations. But it can also lead to some really cool conversations, although I'm sick of the where have you been conversation which everyone does. Funny, before Paris, I never considered using the verb 'to do' to describe my outings, but Paris is a bit of a check list. One doesn't see, one does, as in today I did the Louvre. Or I've already done the Notre-Dame. It's almost as if being a tourist is a way of having sex with a city, and eash spot of interest is a different sex partner.

Tomorrow I have know idea what I'm doing. Probably going back to the Shakespeare and Co, because that's my new favourite book store.